The Sultana Explodes on the Mississippi -- Worst Maritime Disaster in U.S. History

The Burning of the Sultana

By Wm. H. Norton, Company C, 115th Ohio, 1892

Midnight’s dreary hour has past,
The mists of night are falling Fast,
Sultana sounds her farewell blast,
And braves the might stream;
The swollen river’s banks overflow,
The deaden clouds are hanging low
And veil the stars bright silver glow,
And darkness reigns supreme.

Her engine fires now brighter burn,
Her mammoth wheels now faster turn,
Her dipping paddles lightly spurn
The river’s foaming crest:
And drowsy Memphis, lost to sight,
Now fainter shows her beacon light,
As Sultana steams in the dead of night,
And the Union soldiers rest.

The sleeping soldiers dream of home,
To them the long-sought day had come,
No more in prison pens to moan,
Or guarded by the gray;
At last the changing fates of war
Had swing their prison “gates ajar,”
And “laurel wreaths” from the North afar
Await their crowning day.

For Peace has raised her magic hand,
The Stars and Stripes wave o’er the land,
The conquered foemen now disband,
“As melts the mowing dew;”
And mothers wear their wonted smile,
And aged sires the hours beguile,
And plighted love awaits the while
The coming of the blue.

On sails the steamer through the gloom,
On sleep the soldiers to their doom,
And death’s dark angel oh! so soon-
Calls loud the muster roll.
A-burst-a-crash-and-timbers fly,

And-flame-and-steam-leap to the sky,
And-men awakened-but-to die-
Commend to God their souls.

Out from the flame’s encircling fold,
Like a mighty rush of warriors, bold,
They leap to the river dark and cold,
And search for the hidden shore.
In the cabins, -and-pinioned-there,
A mid-the-smoke-and-fire-and-glare,
The-awful-wail-of-death’s-despair
Is heard above the roar.

Out on, the river’s rolling tide,
Out from the steamer’s burning side,
Out where the circle is growing wide,
They battle with the waves.
And drowning men each other clasp,
And writhing in death’s closing grasp
They struggle bravely, but at last
Sink to watery graves.

Oh! for the star’s bright silver light
Oh! for a moon to dispel the night!
Oh! for the hand that should guide aright
The way to the distant land!
Clinging to driftwood and floating down,
Caught in the eddies and whirling around,
Washed to the flooded banks are found
The survivors of that band.

On April 27, 1865, the steamboat “Sultana” exploded and sank while traveling up the Mississippi River, killing an estimated 1,800 people. The event remains the worst maritime disaster in U.S. history (the sinking of the Titanic killed 1,512 people). Yet few know the story of this tragedy.

“In the long list embracing every engagement of the Rebellion, the Union killed on the field have exceeded the loss of lives by this explosion in only four great battles: the Wilderness, Gettysburg, Spottsylvania and Antietam. There have been more lives lost by this explosion than were killed from the Union ranks in the combined battles of Fredericksburg, Franklin, and Five Forks; more than were killed from the Union ranks on the fields of battle at Pea Ridge, Perryville, and Pleasant Hill combined; more than the Union loss in killed at Chancellorsville, or Chickamauga, or Shiloh. Only the fact that it occurred just at the close of the great war, just when the country was bowed in grief at the murder of its beloved first citizen, gave it relatively a minor place in the history of that time.”

– Jesse Hawes, author Cahaba: A Story of Captive Boys in Blue

The Sultana was on its way from Vicksburg, Mississippi, to St. Louis when the explosion occurred, says Jerry Potter, a Memphis lawyer and author of The Sultana Tragedy. The vessel was packed with Union soldiers who'd been released from Confederate prison camps.

By the spring of 1865 the war was close to its end, and the opposing armies agreed that it was time to release their prisoners and send them home. After the prisoners were released they had a hard time making their way west across the South to Vicksburg, where, they had been told, steamboats would carry them to their homes in the north.

Traveling north from Vicksburg on the Mississippi River, boats could reach the Missouri, Ohio, and Tennessee rivers and, from there, the towns of the American Midwest from which the soldiers had come. But to get to the Mississippi River at Vicksburg the soldiers had to travel by boat, by train, and on foot. Because they were so weak from their war and prison experiences some of them died along the way. Making matters worse, some of the trains derailed due to the damaged railroad tracks — many of the railroad tracks had been destroyed by the war. In 1865 there were no highways and not even many good roads.

The owners of the steamboats had been competing to see who could arrange for the most freed prisoners on their boats. The steamboat companies were paid $5 for each enlisted man and $10 per officer by the government to transport the soldiers and freed prisoners – a lot of money in 1865. And, some of the company employees bribed army officials in Vicksburg to make sure they got as many passengers as possible.

Desperate to get home, the POWs persuaded army officers to let them all on the steamship. When the Sultana pulled out of Vicksburg for her journey north, she was carrying approximately 2,100 more passengers than her capacity of 376. The weight on the top deck was so heavy that prior to launch stanchions were installed underneath to strengthen the support, but, despite the alterations, the deck was still sagging. The Sultana was loaded to more than six times its capacity.

Add to this overload the flood stage of the Mississippi River then. That day, the water was moving very quickly and contained a lot of trees and other debris. And it was very cold and very, very dark.

In Loss of the Sultana and Reminiscences of Surivors (1892), Rev. Chester D. Berry wrote …

“But there was one thing that was unfavorable, and that was the pitchy darkness of the night. It was raining a little, or had been, and but occasional glimpses of timber were all that could be seen, even when the flames were the brightest, consequently the men did not know what direction to take, and one man, especially, swam up stream.

“Another thing that added greatly to the loss of life is the fact that the river at this place is three miles wide, and at the time of the accident it was very high and had overflown its banks, and many, doubtless, perished after they reached the timber while trying to get through the woods back to the bluffs, the flats being deeply under water.

“Others died from exposure in the icy-cold water after they had reached the timber, but were unable to climb a tree or crawl upon a log and thus get out of the water.”

It was close to midnight when the packet let go her mooring lines and crossed the river to take on coal. After this was loaded the Sultana went on up the river, bound for Cairo. Most of the servicemen aboard were to disembark there.

One assumes the passengers were dozing. Two or three more days and they would be home again. Then they could sleep and eat and rest, and the terrible prison camp experiences could begin to fade in their memories. The war was over; just a few more hours on this crowded steamboat, and they would be home.

The Sultana made it only a few miles north of Memphis. Near 2:00 A.M. on April 27, 1865, when the Sultana was just seven miles north of Memphis, her boilers suddenly exploded, and the entire center of the boat erupted like a volcano. It was as if a tremendous bomb had gone off. The shrapnel, the steam and the boiling water killed hundreds.

Fire, drowning, and exposure would kill many hundreds more. Most of the men preferred drowning to being burned alive, and leaped into the water. But the story of the Sultana is about more than lost lives. It is also about a rescue effort that brought together people who had been at war just weeks earlier. Many Sultana survivors ended up on the Arkansas side of the river, which was under Confederate control during the war. And many of them were saved by local residents.

It should also be remembered that among the passengers were twelve ladies, most of them belonging to the Christian commission, an association akin to that of the sanitary commission of the Army of the Potomac.

According to Berry ...

“One of these ladies, with more than ordinary courage, when the flames at last drove all the men from the boat, seeing them fighting like demons in the water in the mad endeavor to save their lives, actually destroying each other and themselves by their wild actions, talked to them, urging them to be men, and finally succeeded in getting them quieted down, clinging to the ropes and chains that hung over the bow of the boat.

“The flames now began to lap around her with their fiery tongues. The men pleaded and urged her to jump into the water and thus save herself, but she refused, saying: 'I might lose my presence of mind and be the means of the death of some of you.'

“And so, rather than run the risk of becoming the cause of the death of a single person, she folded her arms quietly over her bosom and burned, a voluntary martyr to the men she had so lately quieted.”

Tragically, the disaster was overshadowed by other events. On April 9, General Robert E. Lee surrendered, ending the Civil War; and five days later, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth, who himself was killed on the 26th, the day before the Sultana had exploded on the Mississippi.

Sultana Disaster, April 1865. From List of Federal prisoners who survived 

A Local Connection

And now for the local historical connection. Valley graduate Olivia Smalley is related to John J. Kurtz, who was a soldier in the 7th Ohio Calvary, Company F. According to family accounts, he survived a Confederate POW camp known as “Libby Prison,” and then John went on to survive the Sultana disaster. He incurred a broken back in the process of saving himself from the latter.

John J. Kurtz was born in Pennsylvania in October of 1837, and he died in Otway, Ohio, on April 7, 1921 at age 83. He was known as “Jack.” Kurtz lived in Brown County (Waggoner's Ripple, Ohio) for some time before moving to the Otway community. He is buried in Otway Cemetery.

These two members of Company F (Kurtz's company) died in the Sultana explosion: J. H. Starrett, corporal company F, 7th Ohio Cavalry; and J. J. Curley, private company F, 7th Ohio Cavalry

 Portsmouth Daily Times, 07 Dec 1921, Wed, Page 6

Chronicles of the Disaster

The following accounts were taken from survivors of the Sultana disaster. They provide a stirring personal view of the tragedy.

N. Wintringer, Chief Engineer stated ...

“As I was chief engineer of that ill-fated steamer at the time of her explosion I thought that my recollections of that terrible calamity would be of some interest. I believe that George Oayton, one of the pilots and myself were the only officers of the boat that escaped with our lives …

“The 'Sultana' left Cairo on that fatal trip the 15th of April, 1865, the day after the death of President Lincoln, and as all wire communications with the south were cut off at that time, the "Sultana" carried the news of his assassination and death to all points and military posts on the Mississippi river as far as New Orleans.

“I do not remember the exact date of our leaving New Orleans on our return trip. But on our arrival at Vicksburg, we were ordered to report to carry a load of paroled soldiers, who, I believe, were from Andersonville and Libby prisons.

“While at Vicksburg we repaired a boiler. Now it was claimed by some at the time that this boiler was not properly repaired, and that was the cause of the explosion. In a short time those boilers

were recovered and the one that had been repaired at Vicksburg was found in good condition, whole and intact, and that it was one of the other three that caused the explosion.

Now what did cause this explosion ? The explosion of the 'Walker R. Carter' and 'Missouri,' in rapid succession, I think fully answers that question. It was the manner of the construction of those boilers.

“After these three fatal explosions they were taken out of all steamers using them and replaced with the old style of boiler. They were an experiment on the lower Mississippi. They had been used with some success on the upper Mississippi, where the water at all times is clear and not liable to make much sediment or scale.

“... those boilers … had not long been in use there, and it was the opinion of experts that it would have been only a question of time for all steamers using those boilers to have gone the way that the 'Carter,' ''Missouri,' and 'Sultana' went, had they not have been taken out and replaced by others.

“I have one word to say for the engineer who was on duty at the time and who lost his life. It was talked around that he was under the influence of liquor. I can say for him, and all who were personally acquainted with him can say the same, that he was a total abstainer from anything of the kind.” (This was written April 14, 1886, and he died October 11, 1886.)

P. S. Atchley, 3rd Regiment of Tennessee Volunteers said ...

“I was thrown into the surging waves of that mighty river, into the jaws of death, and life depended on one grand effort, expert swimming, which I did successfully, and after swimming six or seven miles,according to statements given by citizens living on the banks of the river, landed on the Arkansas shore without any assistance whatever.

“There I found a confederate soldier who came to my relief, and took me to a house near by, and gave me something to eat, and I felt something like myself again, thanks to the Great Ruler of the Universe. The said confederate soldier worked hard to save the lives of the drowning men, and brought to shore in his little dugout about fifteen of them.

“A number of comrades got out at the point where I did. Among them were some Ohio men for whom I have great respect (but have lost their names), especially one of the 24th Ohio Regiment, that got out of the water at the same time I did. I gave him my blouse and slips as he was naked ; if he is yet living I would like to hear from him. I will close by wishing God to bless every survivor.”

J. Walter Elliot, 10^th Regiment Indiana Volunteer Infantry, remembered ...

“Women and little children in their night clothes, brave men who have stood undaunted on many a battle field, all contribute to the confusion and horror of the scene as they suddenly see the impending death by fire, and wringing their hands, tossing their arms wildly in the air, with cries most heart-rending, they rush pell-mell over the guard into the dark, cold waters of the river; while the ''old soldier" is hastily providing for himself anything that will float — tables, doors, cots, partition planks — anything, everything.

"What a worse than Babel of confusion of sights and sounds as each seeks his own safety, regardless of others. Where is the cot of my selection a few hours previous, and where its occupant? Ask of that holocaust below. 'There is a divinity that shapes our ends.'”

“There seemed to be acres of struggling humanity on the waters, some on debris of the wreck, some on the dead carcasses of horses, some holding to swimming live horses, some on boxes, bales of hay,

drift logs, etc. Soon we parted company with the wreck and the crowd and drifted out into the darkness almost alone.”

William Fies, 64th Regiment Ohio Volunteer Infantry, said ...

“After being in the water for quite a long time, which seemed to me an age, part of the time in company with others going down the river, some swimming, others floating on driftwood and all conceivable kinds of rafts, everything that would float being utilized; some were shouting for help, others praying, singing, laughing, or swearing.”

Isaac Van Nuys, 57^th Indiana Veteran Volunteer Infantry stated ...

“No adequate cause for the explosion has ever been ascertained. The steamer was running at her proper speed (nine or ten miles an hour). No peril seemed imminent and the event remains yet a mystery. The scene that followed the explosion was simply horrible beyond words to depict, but it was of short duration as the glare of the burning steamer that illuminated the sky and made visible the awful despair of the hour soon died away, while darkness, all the more intense, settled down on the floating hulk and the 2,300 victims of the explosion, who, maimed or scalded, in addition to battle wounds, were borne down by the unpitying flood whose rapid current was strewn with the bodies of the dead and the dying and but few, in fact, but what were injured.”

L. A. Deerman, 3rd Regiment of Tennesee Cavalry, related …

“I went on and on swimming for my life on my short board. It seemed to me that I was in the water about an hour and a half. While I was in the water I struck an old log; one end of it was hanging to something and the other end was floating about in the water. I caught hold of the end of it and pulled myself upon the log and here remained until eight o'clock in the morning. I could hear the boys, all up and down the river banks on logs, bushes and drift, smacking and rubbing themselves to keep warm, and crowing like chickens while many a poor boy was sinking or floating in the deep waters of the Mississippi.

“Oh! this was so unexpected to that crew that night.”

Sources:

Rev. Chester D. Berry. Loss of the Sultana and Reminiscences of Survivors. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by REV. CHESTER D. BERRY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

Jon Hamilton. “The Shipwreck That Led Confederate Veterans To Risk All For Union Lives. NPR.

April 27, 2015.

Alan Huffman. “Surviving the Worst: The Wreck of the Sultana at the End of the American Civil War.” History Now http://www.mshistorynow.mdah.ms.gov/articles/319/surviving-the-worst-the-wreck-of-the-sultana Mississippi Historical Society. 2000–2017.

Cedric A. Larson. “Death on the Dark River.” American Heritage. Volume 6, Issue 6. October 1955.

Robert R. Smith. Indiana and the Sultana Disaster. 2015.

“The Tragedy of the SS Sultana.” https://www.ancestry.com/contextux/historicalinsights/sultana-disaster-1865/

Sultana Museum, Arkansas